


all i want for christmas is you

by moldymilk



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, blinks Past is revealed, heres a hint: it's not good, ish, theres also angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 23:23:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13154190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moldymilk/pseuds/moldymilk
Summary: Blink has something to ask Mush, but he has something to tell him first





	all i want for christmas is you

**Author's Note:**

> this was a christmas gift for tungle dot hell user @gadalosonogo and other Tungle Dot Hell user @winnibeth-foster is the reason im posting this

“What the shit are you doing, babe?” Blink yawned, having just awoken from a nap by a series of crashes. Mush looked up at him, holding a box that was probably taller than him, his eyes glistening.

 

“Well, we couldn’t have a real tree this year ‘cause of your allergy, and Target was having a sale, so I got us a fake one,” he replied calmly.

 

“You really didn’t have to. I’m fine without a tree, Mushie, really,” Blink yawned for the second time, leaning against the doorframe. 

 

“You may be, but I’m not,” Mush shot back, wrestling the box open. A few pinkish colored pieces fell out.

 

“Personally, I think your obsession with rose gold is getting to be a little too much. I’m starting to believe you’s gonna leave me for it one day,” Blink said dramatically, making his way over to where Mush was and wrapping his arms around his waist. 

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll still invite you to the wedding. You can be the one who objects,” Mush joked back, leaning into Blink’s touch. A thought popped into Blink’s head- one about a ring he had hidden in his nightstand- but he pushed it away. There were other, better, times for that.

 

“Awh, thanks, babe. I’ll make sure I give a really long objection speech that’s entirely about how rose gold is a horrible color that should be banned from the United States altogether,” he laughed into Mush’s neck.

 

“Are we gonna put this tree together or not?” Mush asked.

-

Three hours and plenty of stolen kisses later, the pair was lying on the couch, admiring their tree. “We forgot to decorate it,” Mush pointed out. Blink lifted his head from Mush’s shoulder to look him in the eyes, the rested it again.

 

“I’ve already had too much Christmas for this year. Maybe next year,” Blink mumbled.

 

“Why are you so against Christmas?” Mush asked curiously, trying to be cautious. He knew that Blink tended to be secretive about his past, and that talking about it didn’t come easy. 

 

“I’ve seen too many people- kids- not make it to Christmas. Before I lost my eye,” he began, swallowing nervously, “I was in the hospital a lot. Retinoblastoma. For most of my childhood and teen years. When I first got it, I was seven and it was two weeks before Christmas. I spent Christmas in the cancer ward, not knowing what was going on or if I would make it to the next.”

 

“Blink,” Mush began, Blink cutting him off. 

 

“I made a friend in the ward. His name was Boots, and he was six. He didn’t make it to Christmas, and that's when I realized how shitty everything was gonna be. I started chemo, and I got better for a bit. About two years. July when I was 9, I had to go back, and that time it was worse. I heard them- the nurses and the doctors- saying things. Things about how I probably wouldn’t make it to my tenth birthday. How I wouldn’t make it to Halloween. How I wouldn’t make it to Christmas. I started to think about how I would never grow up, never date anyone, never kiss anyone, never get arrested or do anything exciting. How I was doomed because something in an eye wasn’t right. And I thought of Boots, how he was six. How he would never love, or live, or even make it past first grade. I just- I thought I was going to die, Mushie,” he let out a sob, Mush placing a comforting hand on his head. 

 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Mush said, running his fingers through Blink’s hair. 

 

“I want to. You deserve to know, Michael,” Blink whispered back, continuing with his story, “But I pulled through. I pulled through, I turned ten, I saw Christmas again. But we couldn’t afford much ‘cause all of our money went to paying bills for my meds. That was the last year my family had a tree. I was back in the hospital when I was thirteen, this time in November. It was the worst I ever got. I lost my eye that year. In December, my mom took a turn for the worse and started doing coke. She decided that to get more coke money, I needed to stop having eye problems. And for me to stop having eye problems, I needed to lose my eye. She took me to the cheapest surgeon the could find, ignoring my protests. The surgeon butchered the surgery and I almost died again. I was taken back to the hospital, on Christmas day, and my mom was sent to jail. The state paid for reconstructive surgery for whatever they could salvage from my eye, but they couldn’t save much. I was left one eyed and a too big scar on my eye. I was sent into foster care, where nobody wanted the one eyed kid with the creepy glass eye. The first Christmas I spent in the system, some kid got me an eyepatch as a gag and started calling me ‘pirate’ but I wore the nickname with pride. I started wearing the eyepatch, and people started liking me more. Four years later, I worked my ass into college where I met you,” Blink finished, wiping the tears off of his cheeks, Mush kissing his forehead gently. He didn’t answer, but held Blink a little tighter.

 

“You’re too good for me, Mushie. You’re really too good for me,” Blink said, half resuming his normal sarcastic nature, “Would you care to decorate the tree?” 

 

“Why not?”

-

Mush had left to go get some more cookies from the kitchen, giving Blink an opportunity to quickly dash into their shared bedroom to grab the box he had hidden. He pushed away all of his doubts, shoving the box into his pocket. 

 

When Blink returned to the living room, Mush was sitting on the floor, holding a present in his lap, and staring at the tree with childlike wonder. 

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Mush asked, his eyes reflecting the lights. Blink had to resist the urge to propose right then and there. Instead, he swallowed nervously as Mush kept talking. “Do you want to open our presents to each other? Before the others get here.”

 

“I have two, I hope that’s okay,” Blink said. It was too late to go back.

 

“Okay, then I’ll open the first one of yours, you can open mine, and then I’ll do the last one. Deal?” Blink nodded. He reached towards the present pile, hoping Mush wouldn’t notice that anything was wrong. 

 

Mush’s first gift was a book he had desperately wanted. He hugged Blink suddenly, startling him, then handing him a box. Blink tore off the wrapping, revealing a picture of them that Jack had drawn years ago in a frame.

 

“I found it in Jack’s house a while back. He said I could have it, so I’m giving it to you,” Mush said quietly, kissing Blink on the cheek gently. He swallowed nervously again, but pushed through.

 

“It’s beautiful, Mushie. You gotta stand up for my last gift though, or else it won’t feel right,” Blink replied, his heart in his throat. 

 

“Okay?” Mush answered, his voice wavering. But still, he stood up, Blink shifting so he was on one knee. He pulled the box out of his pocket, flipping it open to reveal an antique diamond ring.

 

“Shit- I, uh, this was a lot easier to do in my head,” Blink began, “but will you, Michael Meyers, make me the luckiest man on earth and marry me?” Mush didn’t say anything at first, just dragging Blink up so he was standing and crashing their lips together for what seemed like the longest time. When they finally broke away, both of them were panting. “Is that a yes?”

 

“Absolutely,” Mush smiled, leaning in for another kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> It May Be The 26th But i Do Not Care yell at me on tungle @moldymilk


End file.
